


To Look Down Upon You is Enough For Me

by itsreallylaterightnow



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Family Feels, Father's Day fic, Found Family, Gen, Grief, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Michelle Jones deserves the world, Mourning, Pepper Potts Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Break, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker has a son, Peter Parker is a Good Dad, Protective Pepper Potts, Protective Peter Parker, The Guardian AU, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark is Good With Kids, Tony Stark is a Good Dad, Tony stark is a good granddad, the importance of found fathers, this is a sad one boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:33:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24782368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsreallylaterightnow/pseuds/itsreallylaterightnow
Summary: “A wise man told me once that fathers weren’t always born to you. That-that sometimes the best fathers are the ones that step up to the plate when no one else is there. I didn’t truly know what having a father was like. But now I know what having a father should be. And I’ll miss him every day.”-Peter went on the mission thinking that he and Mr. Stark would be back in time for him to apologize to Michelle about being late for supper again.He never would have imagined the outcome that happened, or how much it would affect who he was as a father.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 29
Kudos: 58
Collections: Peter Parker is a Good Dad





	To Look Down Upon You is Enough For Me

**Author's Note:**

> The Guardian AU (Ashton Kutcher movie) that no one asked for... and made me very very sad! I hope you all enjoy! 
> 
> I am super proud of this fic, and just gotta say the biggest of thanks to every single person that helped me with this fic!!!
> 
> I posted this early because I am going to be busy on actual Father's Day :) So bon appetite 
> 
> Warnings:
> 
> I chose not to use archive warnings but this fic is... big sad, so be prepared. I cried so much writing this, but just be prepared for grief and angst... but if you've read any of my works before you're already ready for that lol
> 
> Happy Father’s Day to you, wherever you are. Whether you have a Richard, Ben, or Tony, I hope you know how worthy of love you are. ❤️❤️

Peter looked out into the small gathering of people that had loved Tony Stark, his heart hammering in their shared grief. Pepper and Morgan sat in the front row, the teenager gripping tightly to her mother’s arms as they both wept . Peter saw Tony’s eyes so vividly in Morgan. May and Happy sat behind them, their faces riddled with grief. Beside them sat Michelle and Edward. Casting his gaze to his kid, a pang of love overtook Peter. Benjamin Edward Stark, though Michelle and Peter had chosen to call him Eddie from the beginning. He stared at Peter with a childlike confusion. He was only four years old, and though Michelle tried to explain that Grampa wasn’t going to be coming home, the four-year-old just didn’t seem to be able to grasp the concept.

Peter stood at the end of the dock, wind rippling the water perfectly behind him. He wished they were standing anywhere but near the water. He never wanted to look at an open body of water again in his life. His hands had begun to sweat the second he’d seen it. 

With a slight cough, Peter realized he’d been standing for too long without speaking. He glanced down at the cards in his hands, blinking the tears out of his eyes as best he could.

“I have lost a lot of people in my life,” he started, voice thick and raw from the weight in his chest. He ran a finger along the collar of his shirt, trying to loosen the fabric up a bit. “I lost my parents when I was little.” Peter’s eyes caught Eddie’s again. “Just four years old.”

Michelle gave him a sad, tight-lipped smile of encouragement. 

“I didn’t understand at the time what that meant. I would ask Aunt May and Uncle Ben when I was going to see Mom and Dad again, and they would try to explain it, but I never did understand. Not until I was around six. When it finally clicked with me, I remember crying.” Peter ran his thumb up and down on the cards in his hands at the memory. “I had been bullied by this kid at school who had made fun of me for not having my dad come to work on Parent’s day. Ben had-had been late coming in because he had gotten called out. When he arrived at school, he saw that I’d been crying; he took me out in the hall and I had asked him why I didn’t have a father.”

Peter cleared his throat and blinked heavily, forcing the tears from his eyes. He remembered this day so vividly in his mind. The way his uncle had held him so close and whispered those reassuring words to him. 

“He said, “Petey, fathers… well, some fathers are born to you. They raise you up from when you’re born, and they are there through every walk of your life. And yeah, that’s how most people want it. But I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Peter remembered how Ben had been down on his knee, holding both of Peter’s shoulders in his firm hands. “Sometimes, the best fathers are the ones that choose you. A boy can have two or three men in his life that are like fathers to him. It’s not a one and done type of deal.” Peter remembers how he had tugged Ben’s sleeve, asking if Ben was like his other father. Ben had just laughed and nodded, saying that he would like that very much. 

A cough from the crowd pulled Peter from his memory.

Peter looked down at his cards again, the breeze of the lake rustling them slightly. “When I lost Ben… when I lost Ben, I was certain I couldn’t get lucky enough to have someone else.” The gunshot from that day echoed in his head. “I just knew that no other man would come into my life. I had lost my last opportunity to have a dad.” Peter’s lip wobbled again, but he shoved the emotions down as far as they could go. He remembers how lost he felt, knowing he would be going through the rest of his life without a father figure. “Then I met Tony.”

His voice broke off with a sob as he grabbed his face with his hand. 

“And I thought – how on earth did I get this lucky? That this – this _hero_ would choose me? Me? Of all people.” He gave his head a slight shake. “I didn’t understand it. I remember the first time, after the snap, when Tony got me back… I remember explaining to him how much it scared me that I would…” He forced himself to take a deep breath, a growing lump in his throat choking him out. “I was so scared that I was going to lose him. And Mr. Stark, he grabbed me and hugged me.” Peter choked on a laugh. “And God, it was so awkward because he really wasn’t much of a hugger. But he hugged me, and he told me that as far as he was concerned, he was always going to be there for me.”

Peter broke, a hand coming up to his face as sobs were ripped from him. He forced himself to take a shuddering breath and look back up. 

“He told me that he was going to be there to see me get married and have a kid, and that by God, he was going to make sure I was always there… for – for my family.” Peter’s head fell to his chin as he let out a guttural sound. With a shake of his hands he looked back out over the weeping faces of his loved ones. “And he did. Mr. Stark… I had him the longest. Of any man that was in my life, I had him the longest. And he was the one I least expected. But God, I loved him. And I am going to miss him so much.

“A wise man told me once that fathers weren’t always born to you . That-that sometimes the best fathers are the ones that step up to the plate when no one else is there. I didn’t truly know what having a father was like. But now I know what having a father should be. And I’ll miss him every day.”

Peter began to openly weep, stepping down from the platform as he all but fell into Michelle’s arms. Her gently hands raked through his hair as he fell apart. Pepper got up and spoke, and Peter really did want to listen, but all he could think about was that day.

It had been the worst day of his life.

He could remember every achingly painful moment too clearly.

Two Weeks Before

Peter rested his head on the seat of the Huey with a thud. They were flying over the raging Atlantic as Tony and Natasha bickered on and on about… well, who knows? Peter was preoccupied with how much Michelle was going to kill him for this one. He’d promised her he would be home in time for dinner that day, but then Tony had called with this emergency job.

Things were strained between the two of them. Peter and Michelle both knew that his lifestyle wasn’t normal. He didn’t work a normal nine-to-five job. Michelle had come to Peter about how things weren’t easy for her. That she needed him around more. And Peter tried, he really did. God, he wanted to be everything for her, but his life was demanding. He was constantly being pulled in so many different directions and he failed.

“What’s got you in such a sour mood?” Tony asked on the private link. The man had turned from where he and Natasha were talking in order to face Peter.

“Michelle… I just – I promised her and Ed I’d be home for dinner but–” Peter just gave a slight shrug of his shoulders.

“Ah, the good ol’ fashioned hero-family guilt complex,” Tony said, his smile as kind as ever. Since coming back from the snap, ten years ago, Tony had… softened. He was more of a gentle character, and Peter knew so much of that had to do with Morgan.

“I don’t know, it’s just… I want to be there for both of them all the time, but I hear things. Inside, when we eat dinner, I can hear people screaming, and someone crying, and the ambulances ten miles away, and I just want to be able to relax with my family. Yet, just sitting still while all of that happens makes me feel like a complete failure.” Peter didn’t know why he had chosen now, flying over the Atlantic on their way to beat up some Hydra agents, to pour his heart out to Tony. But here he was.

“Well, I think you’ll just have to realize that the things you do – yes, they are so important, but how can you possibly live if you don’t have someone to go home to? Before I became Iron Man, I had the world at my fingertips and more money than I knew what to do with… and no family. And even as Iron Man there were times that I became so obsessed with fixing the things I messed up that I pushed those nearest to me away. And I felt like absolute shit.” Tony gave Peter a curious tilt of his head. “I wouldn’t be who I am today if I didn’t have my family with me. Pepper, Morgan, You, Happy, Rhodes, May, and now Michelle and Ed. I can’t imagine what my life would have been. I just know that I would have hated it. That no amount of being a hero could fill up the hole in my soul that my family did.”

Peter nodded slowly. “I think I just need to get away with them for a bit.”

“Bring the crew up to the lake house for a few days. We can grill out, mess with the llamas, it’ll be a great time,” Tony said, but he must have still sensed the apprehension in Peter at the whole ordeal. He leaned forward, his gloved hand falling on Peter’s shoulder. “A very wise man once told me not to waste my life, Pete. He wasn’t talking about my money, or even saving people. He was talking about sharing my life with family. Don’t waste your life, Peter. Don’t wake up ten years from now by yourself in a tiny apartment on your kid’s birthday, worn and beaten, wondering how to let him know you still think about him every night. Don’t let it happen.” Tony gave his shoulder a sharp squeeze before Natasha’s voice came in over the intercom.

“Alright, boys. Party is right down below. You know the drill. Get in, get out, take out all the Hydra agents you can. Make it quick this time, we’ve got a nasty storm rolling in soon that even this high-tech helicopter won’t be able to withstand.” Her voice clicked off as Tony and Peter moved to crouch at the edge. Tony tapped the nanoparticle container on his chest, and his suit enveloped him as Peter tugged on his mask.

“Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

The two were off. Peter hung from Tony’s right arm on a web as he lowered the two of them onto the dark ship below them. Peter dropped down with a roll and shook his arms out.

“Let’s go kick some Hydra ass!” he quipped, adrenaline rushing through his body. 

The first leg of the battle unfolded in favor of the avengers. The ship that they were on had two doors from the lower decks, which made it rather easy to corner the agents and keep them at bay. Peter took the left half of the ship, webbing up agents here and there, knocking out the occasional jerk that tried to shoot him, he knew the drill.

Peter flipped over agents, knocking out whoever was nearest to him. He could hear Mr. Stark’s repulsors going off behind him as the two of them worked in tandem to dispel the ship as quickly as they could.

Mr. Stark seemed to be holding his own on the other half of the ship, and Peter was beginning to think he might just make it home in time for a late dinner with his wife and son. Guilt was eating him alive at the prospect of Eddie going to sleep for another night without having his dad there to tuck him into bed.

Peter was in the middle of webbing a particularly annoying Hydra agent to the deck when his spider-sense flared. He spun around, and his heart jumped as he caught sight of a Hydra agent that had somehow managed to slip past him. The man was holding some strange gun at Peter, the barrel was the size of Peter’s fist. Before Peter had the chance to jump out of the way, the agent shot the weapon. It was a large net of some type. The material latched onto Peter, a thick cable wire, that clung to Peter’s suit. The force of the net hitting him knocked Peter back, his right side hit a pipe, and he cried out as he heard ribs cracking before he even felt it.

Then the net began to spark, shooting electrical currents through his body. 

Peter saw stars, the electricity keeping him from doing so much as breathing, his mouth letting out choked grunts as every muscle in his body seized.

Peter was aware of grunting and the sounds of repulsors firing, but the only thing he could focus on was the blinding pain.

Too much – too much – it was _too much_!

It all stopped as suddenly as it had started. Peter was choking on breaths, gasping as he sought air. His muscles felt as though he had spent twelve hours on patrol, weak and shaking.

“Hang on, just hang on!” Mr. Stark’s voice said from above him as Peter just let his body go limp with exhaustion. His chest still spasmed, coughs ripped from his throat as he tried to even out his breaths. Peter could hear cables snapping as Tony muttered curses above him. “Are you alright?” the man’s tense voice asked.

“Mhm. I can now add electricity nets to the long list of weapons I _really_ don’t like,” Peter murmured.

“You and me both, pal,” Tony said, then the last of the netting was ripped from Peter’s body. He shook his head as Mr. Stark grabbed his hand, pulling the two of them up to their feet. Peter’s knees buckled immediately, and he went crashing forward. Thankfully, Mr. Stark was directly in front of him, and the man caught him swiftly with a grunt. Peter cried out, his arm going straight to the ribs that had been cracked, his body bending in half from the pain.

“Br-broken ribs. Ooo, fuck. Painful broken ribs.” He felt the suit’s arms steadying him as he straightened himself up on wobbly legs.

“You’re going to have to work on that mouth there, pal. You don’t want Eddie learning that kind of language. Trust me. The first time Morgan was around Cap, she dropped her toy. You should have seen Steve Roger’s face when my eight-year-old daughter said, ‘shit’ right in front of him.”

Peter croaked out a laugh but winced as he bent over farther. “You – you’ve got to stop making me laugh right now!” he cried.

“Shit, you’re right. Okay, give me two minutes. I’m going to set up the EMP and then we will send SHIELD in to take care of the rest of them. These guys won’t know what hit them, and we will be far enough away that we won’t be touched by it.” Mr. Stark turned, heading towards the hull of the ship. “Call Romanov and get her over here! Rest until I get back,” Tony said, and Peter nodded. Mr. Stark stepped out of the suit, holding the EMP as he climbed up to the empty captain’s hull.

“Nat, we’ll be ready in five.” Peter said.

“Perfect timing. The storm is rolling in, and it’s rolling in bad,” she said.

“Gotcha. Mr. Stark is setting up the EMP to knock out their weapons and communication lines, then we’ll be ready.” Peter turned his head away from Mr. Stark, tuning his ears in to hear the helicopter coming in. He could see the storm clouds rolling in from the left. It was almost dark, and the clouds had completely covered the sun. He felt it in the air, the storm that was racing towards them. He still felt as though every muscle in his body was on fire, and his bones felt as though they were completely unable to hold him up. Peter’s heart began to race, and his spider-sense was slowly turning itself up higher and higher.

“Sounds like a plan. Let’s get out of here.” Peter clicked off his comm, and as he was turning back to Tony, a shrill ringing was set off.

Peter collapsed down to one knee, his hands racing to cover his ears as his head screamed from the pain. For however many years he had been Spider-Man, piercing noises would still take him down every time. Mr. Stark had made the Spider-Man mask with a built-in noise-cancellation program. Peter jerked around, wondering why on earth the program had stopped working.

“Mr. Stark? God – what is that sound?” he asked. Peter paused, realizing the comms were down. A cold feeling ran through him. He moved with haste, racing towards the Captain’s hull.

He saw exactly what he was dreading. A lone Hydra agent stood over the Iron Man suit; a ragged piece of scrap metal clasped in gloved hands.

The EMP was smoking on the captain’s chair, and Peter guessed the Hydra agent must have managed to set it off earlier than intended.

Peter leapt up the stairs, his ribs screaming in protest. The Hydra agent caught sight of him at the last second, but Peter fired a web, sticking the guy to the wall. Peter delivered a solid punch to the man’s temple, rendering him unconscious.

With a grunt, he turned to the Iron Man suit, falling to a knee beside it.

“Mr. Stark? Mr. Stark, are you alright?” he asked, worry riddling his voice. When the man didn’t answer, Peter knew the suit was dead in the water. “Alright, hang on.”  
Peter grasped the faceplate, effectively ripping it off in one tug. Mr. Stark was staring at Peter, annoyance written across his face.

“Damn bastard! Set off the EMP, toasted my suit!” Tony rolled his eyes. “Go on, get me out of this thing.”  
Peter grabbed at the emergency release latch on the left bicep. He gave it a swift turn, and the suit immediately opened up. Mr. Stark grabbed hold of Peter’s outstretched hand, pulling himself up to his feet.

“Well, let’s figure out how to get Ms. Romanov to realize that our comms are down.” Tony cracked his neck before leaning down to take the gun from the Hydra agent’s belt.

“She was heading back in. The storm is rolling in, best get out while we can.” Peter looked down at his web shooters. His left one was blinking, alerting him that he was out of web fluid. He looked at his belt, frowning when he noticed that he was out of cartridges.

Peter pushed the thought of it away; he shouldn’t need any more web fluid anyways.

The two made their way down to the hull of the ship. Peter slipped his mask off, the silence caused by the EMP driving him crazy. The mask, when fully functioning, filtered his sound for him. When it stopped working, it just caused everything to be too muffled. Peter tucked the mask away, the wind whipping his hair wildly.

He could see the helicopter coming in, moving below the storm clouds.

Rain began to patter down on top of them. Thunder shook the boat as the strikes of lightning grew closer and closer.

Peter looked up to see the helicopter overhead.

“She’s not going to know we’re ready!” Mr. Stark shouted over the storm, his hair clinging to his forehead. A bolt of lightning struck too close to the boat for comfort.

“I’ll web us up! Just hang on!” Peter said. He could tell Tony was at war with that idea, knowing the pain it would cause Peter. But as the clouds moved overhead, at a pace he wasn’t prepared for, he knew they didn’t have any other options.

Peter wrapped his left arm around Mr. Stark’s back, sticking effectively to his bodysuit.

Tony scoffed. “I feel like a damsel being rescued from a castle,” he quipped, but Peter just rolled his eyes. His body felt too weak to even hold the two of them up, but Peter knew he didn’t have much of an option.

“Oh, whatever. Let’s get out of here. Maybe I’ll make it home in time for dinner!” Peter’s voice barely carried over the wind. He raised his right arm, and shot the web, thankful that the wind didn’t carry it away. He felt it stick to the skid of the helicopter, but a blinking light on his wrist caught his attention. “Perfect timing! This is my last web!” he shouted. He gave a tug on the web, signaling to Natasha that they were ready to go. His ribs were protesting greatly, but as soon as they got cleared from the storm, Nat would lower down the wench and pull them in.

Thankfully, Nat understood the tugs. Peter’s feet left the hull of the ship, Tony clinging tightly to him.

Peter bit his lip with a grunt, his breath catching in his throat as ribs crunched together. The pain was almost as bad as the electricity had been, Peter could feel his arms threatening to give, but he threw his all into maintaining his grip.

“Hang on, pal. I know this hurts like Hell,” Tony muttered into his ear. The wind around them had them swinging under the helicopter as Natasha began to fly them forward. Peter looked out ahead, his heart pounding. The storm clouds were rolling in on three sides, and quickly closing off their exit. This was going to be a bumpy ride.

A spike of panic shot up Peter’s spine, putting him on alert, but it was too slow, too late.

A beam coming off of one of a Hydra weapon shot straight past him and Mr. Stark. It missed the helicopter…

But the beam hit the web.

Peter felt the web giving, their bodies jerking down a bit. With terror lacing his veins, he looked up to see the web was hanging on by a tendril. His heart pounded.

“Shit!” Tony cried, looking down at the Hydra agent. They were finally out of reach from the ship, but the agents had done their damage.

Peter looked back at Tony. “We’ve got to get above the tear!” he cried. The waves below them were raging now, the ocean churning in a rage. The wind howled and lightning cracked around them. Peter’s spider-sense was set on fire.

The unravelling web was about ten feet above them.

“Hang on to my back! Don’t let go!” Peter yelled once more. Mr. Stark maneuvered around him, his arms latched around Peter’s back, so that the kid was essentially giving him a piggy-back ride.

Peter began to climb, his teeth gritting as spots of pain danced through his vision. He was only about two feet away when the line began to break.

With a jolt, Peter jerked upwards, using every ounce of strength he had left to throw his and Mr. Stark’s bodies higher into the air. His right hand clasped onto the end of the fraying web. Peter’s vision swam with sheer agony, a pained grunt escaping before he could stop it.

He was so focused on maintaining his grip on the few inches of web he had that it took him a few seconds too long to realize Mr. Stark was slipping down, the jump having jolted his arms loose from themselves.

“Tony!” he cried out, the shirt in his hand ripping. Mr. Stark began to fall, Peter’s heart plummeting with him. Peter thanked God that his hand had latched onto Mr. Stark’s gloved one in an iron grip. He was using his last remains of strength, he could feel his tank beginning to run empty, but he couldn’t think about that in the moment. The older man was drenched from the rain, his eyes reflected the storming sea. Peter’s teeth were bared, pain and determination written into every contorted line of his face.

“Hang on – j-just hang on!” he grit out. Peter could feel the web untangling under his hands. It was a design flaw he had never thought of until now. The last bit of web fluid stretched too thin; it wasn’t as strong as it needed to be. Peter could tell – had spent enough time swinging around to know that this line wasn’t going to hold. Not both of them. Not in this weather.

Peter’s body _screamed_ in pain. He felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Peter, calm down, pal.” Tony’s voice was as soothing as it had always been, pulling Peter’s frayed nerves back together.

Peter had used that voice in many times of crisis.

He remembered calling Mr. Stark after nightmares of Titan. He would cry to Tony, who was always able to talk him out of his panic.

He called Mr. Stark when he decided to propose to Michelle, thinking he was insane.

Mr. Stark had been at Peter’s wedding, front and center with May. Sitting beside the three open seats Peter had left. Sitting with _family._

Peter had called Mr. Stark when he found out Michelle was pregnant. She had punched his arm because it was supposed to be a secret. But Tony was the only man in Peter’s life that could show him what it was like to be a father.

Mr. Stark had been one of the first in the room when Eddie was born. The older man having a smile only fathers could have. A gentle upturn of lips, creased eyes, and caring hands. A father that would do anything for his family.

Peter had called Mr. Stark over and over again throughout his life. For wisdom, for kind words, for help. Somehow, after all of his bad luck, Tony Stark had been the man to step up and become the father figure he needed.

Tony’s voice washed over him again in this moment as his right hand cramped, pain shooting from his ribcage to every inch of his body.

“It’s going to be alright, Pete.”

“Hang on, Tony! I just – I gotta – hang on!” he cried, not knowing what to do. The storm churned around them, the tendrils of its danger reaching closer and closer to them. They were high enough from the roaring waves that the fall itself would be enough to kill you, let alone the impossibility of staying on top of the water.

The web snapped again, leaving the tendril that Peter held even smaller. He felt panic leaching throughout his entire being.

“I gotta – I gotta pull us up!” he said, tears on his face that he hadn’t noticed until now. Peter knew what he needed to do, knew that he needed to move them higher, but the _pain_. He felt an exhaustion being pushed through his blood that even adrenaline could not override. The ribs, the electricity, and the exertion were beginning to pull him down lower and lower to the ground. Peter was certain that if he tried to throw the two of them up higher again, it would end in the both of them falling straight to the waves.

And Tony knew that too.

Peter could see exactly what the man was thinking when he looked back down at him. Years and years of knowing him had Peter understanding the man more than he ever thought he would.

“No! No, don’t – don’t even think about it!” he spit out.

But there were those lines of determination in his face that Peter hated.

Because if Peter Parker was the prince of being stubborn, Tony Stark was the King.

“ _NO_! It-it was supposed to be easy!” he openly wept, his heart tearing from his chest. “I was supposed to be home by dinner – _you_ were supposed to be home by dinner!” With a mindless yell, Peter readjusted his grip on the man’s slippery glove. “You are going home tonight!” he screamed – because he would be damned if anyone tried to tell him otherwise.

“I don’t think that’s going to happen, pal,” Tony said. God, no. Peter shook his head, his face twisted in pain.

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare!” Peter cried. “I won’t let go! I will not let go!” And he wouldn’t. If he passed out from the pain it caused, Peter’s grip sealed down on the hand even tighter. Sealing the man to him.

“I know.” Tony said, tears leaking from his eyes as well. Peter just shook his head. “I know you won’t! You never would.” Then Tony began to reach upwards with his free hand.

“Stop! Stop! Please, stop!” Peter screamed, begged, pleaded, God – _PLEASE_! 

“I love you, Pete.” Tony’s eyes met his, so warm, the calm in the midst of the storm as they connected with Peter’s.

“Stop – please.” Peter’s voice was broken, shattered with panic and dread.

“I love you.” Tony’s fingers latched onto the thick strap holding his glove on. With a gentle smile, he pulled on the glove. 

Peter screamed, watching as the man fell.

“NO!” his voice rang out. He screamed; rage reached out from him all the way down. He couldn’t see him anymore. The waves had crashed onto of one another, bolts of lightning crescendos of thunder as the world shook around him.

Peter looked down to see a black glove, empty, gripped tightly in his shaking hand.

* * *

Peter doesn’t know how Natasha got him into the helicopter. He was certain he had fallen in after Tony. Something was placed over his face. He was positive that there was someone talking to him. A jab in his arm. Something about breathing slower…? But he was drowning. His vision swam.

The glove was still in his hand. 

* * *

Peter was numb. He had been in his bed for … days? He couldn’t tell how long it had been. His body didn’t feel anything. Every time he tried to speak, tried to answer whatever question Michelle or May had for him, his body broke. Shattering like a ceramic bowl dropped from a counter.

* * *

Peter stood in his room, gripping Tony’s glove in an iron fist. Michelle had gone to drop Ed off at a friend’s house.

Peter stared at his hand, a burning rage filling him. He couldn’t see straight.

“How dare you?” He whispered, his voice made of steel. His eyes began to heat up, all he could see was Tony. Tony staring at him with warm eyes and that smile that was etched into his brain.

“How dare you do that to me?” He spat. Peter’s body began to shake with the rage. “You bastard! You left me alone! How could you?!”

Peter felt his knees giving out.

_Tony falling. His hand slipping from Peter’s._

Over and over again on repeat. It plagued him every single day.

“HOW COULD YOU?” He screamed, his body bent in half as he slammed his hand into the floor. His entire body shook with the weight of his sobs.

Peter could hear a key turning, the tell-tale signs of Michelle entering the house. But he couldn’t stop himself from continuing to weep.

Tony’s eyes.

_Peter could remember someone lifting him from the helicopter. The worried face of Rhodey as he was placed on a gurney. Peter could hear people crying, felt someone’s hand slip into his._

_May._

_Why was she at the compound?_

_He could feel someone climbing up beside him as an IV was slipped into his arm._

“Peter? Pete – come on.” He felt someone’s hands sliding over his chest, pulling him back.

He couldn’t breathe. Peter felt Michelle pulling his back to her chest, he legs splayed on either side of him as he sobbed. He turned his face into her arm as she rocked him.

“I’m sorry – I’m sorry.” His voice was cut off Michelle hushing him.

“Pete, its okay. It wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t your fault.” She said, her arms rubbing up and down his soothingly.

“It was – Michelle, it-it was. I should’ve held on tighter, if I’d just held on tighter-” He squeezed his eyes shut as he choked on a sob.

“Sh, sh, it’s wasn’t on you. Tony made his decision. That’s not on you, Pete.” He felt her kiss the top of his head as she continued to rock them.

“I just – I need him. I’ve lost so much, why-why did I have to lose him too?” His voice was wrecked, hardly a whisper. “Why did I have to lose him too?”

* * *

Eddie came into the room. He didn’t say anything, just sidled up against him, holding his favorite stuffed rabbit. The stuffed rabbit Tony had brought to the hospital for him when he was born.

Peter held his son and wept once more.

* * *

As the days went on, the pain remained the same. Michelle helped him get out of bed. They went to the lake house. It wasn’t good for Peter to wallow at home for… well, however long it had been. When he made it to the lake house he couldn’t speak. There was a knot in his throat so large he was certain he was going to suffocate.

He walked inside; his hand wrapped in a vice-like grip around MJ’s.

It wasn’t until he saw Pepper that he broke.

He collapsed into her arms.

Morgan slid into the hug.

The three of them wept in their joint grief.

Mourning the man who could never be replaced. 

* * *

The funeral came around. They didn’t have a body; none of them could quite manage the idea of Tony Stark being put into the ground. The man had been such a busy person, constantly fidgeting and moving around, the idea that he would be in one place the rest of time seemed so unfitting.  
The world built monuments.

But Tony’s family, those closest to him, they held a private memorial.

Pepper pulled out the first arc reactor, encased in a glass box that was set inside a floral wreath. The box read, “Proof That Tony Stark has a Heart”. And funnily enough, Peter was pretty sure that Tony Stark’s heart had been bigger than anyone else’s on the planet. 

In fact, he was absolutely certain of it.

* * *

Peter sat on the dock after the service, his arm wrapped around Eddie’s shoulder. The two looked out over the lake, Peter nauseas at the sight of the water.

He was meant to be having a very different trip to the lake house with his family right now.

The thought had his lip wobbling.

“Dad?” Ed’s voice pulled Peter from his spiraling thoughts.

He cleared his throat, looking down at his son . “Yeah, bud?”

“I miss grampa.”

Peter’s eyes heated up, as he looked away once more. He could see the glass box on the far side of the lake. 

“I do too, kiddo,” was all he managed to respond with, his voice thick with emotion.

“I wanna talk about my favorite memories. I have two good ones, and one bad one,” Eddie said, swinging his toy rabbit around. 

Peter wanted to plead that Eddie not talk about it right now, but he knew kids grieved in different ways, and he would never dare make Ed feel like he couldn’t talk to him.

“I loved playing superhero with him,” Eddie said, holding out one of the rabbit’s floppy arms in the motion that Tony would hold out a repulsor. “It was fun,” the boy stated simply, as if that were all the explanation he needed.

“Yeah… it was.” Peter had the best memories of watching Tony and Eddie playing in the yard. His heart bled as he thought about the fact that those memories were never going to be a reality again. They were officially past tense.

“I loved his birthday,” Eddie had said, his voice a bit more tender. Quiet in the confusing wake of grief. No child should have to experience grief this early. Peter’s goal had been to ensure that his son didn’t feel grief like he had. “He would always take me to get ice cream and then we would look in his lab before we came to the lake house to play with everyone.” Eddie looked out at the lake; eyebrows drawn low in concentration. “Wanna know a secret?” he asked. Peter just gave a nod of his head. “Sometimes, we would get ice cream twice. He always told me not to tell anyone, it was our secret. But… I don’t think grampa would mind me telling you,” Ed said, fingers soothing over his rabbit calmingly.

“He wouldn’t have minded at all, pal,” Peter said around the lump in his throat.

“You wanna hear the bad memory?” he asked next. Peter wanted to beg of his son not to talk about the bad memory, to tell him that he could barely handle the good memories, but he couldn’t deny his kid the openness, so he just gave a small nod. “I don’t like driving to the lake house anymore. He wasn’t waiting for me.” Peter couldn’t hold back the tears this time so he let them flow.

Eddie and Tony had always had this tradition together. Whenever MJ and Peter would pull up to the house, Tony would be waiting at the mailbox. It started with Tony grabbing Eddie from the car seat, holding the baby tightly in his arms as he walked the length of the driveway up to the house. The tradition had carried on throughout their time together.

The time it took the two of them to get up to the house had begun to take more and more time as Ed had begun to walk. Tony letting the kid try to manage his way up the road for as long as he could before his little legs got tired. They would walk and talk about… well, whatever it is that a child babbles about. Tony never rushed the walk, never made Ed feel like he didn’t have Tony’s attention.

Peter couldn’t handle the fact the Ed would never be able to make that walk with his grandfather again.

“Yeah. That was really hard, Ed,” Peter choked out before pulling his son up into his lap, holding him tightly up to his chest as they watched the sun begin its descent over the lake. A beautiful ending to a stormy day.

* * *

Time would go on and Peter would make a point to always let Michelle drive when they went to the lake house. Whenever they would arrive at the familiar brick mailbox, he would step out of the car and pull Ed from his car seat. Then they would walk. The first couple of times Peter felt like an imposter. As if he was doing something he shouldn’t be. Eddie would run into the woods and jump on a stump and Peter would wonder if he was meant to follow. Then his kid would run up to his arms and Peter would pick him up and set him on his shoulders, but he had no clue what Tony had done.

But when they made it to the house and Ed ran up to Michelle, and jumped into her arms, exclaiming that his dad had taken him for a walk, and smiling so big and wide, Peter had felt himself relaxing. He knew then that it wasn’t about what they did, it was about the time they spent together.

* * *

Tony’s birthday came around that year. Pepper had decided that she wanted the family to come over. They would grill out and just spend time together. No one needed to be alone that day. Peter had woken up feeling like a brick was resting on his chest, but he rolled over, his arm resting gently on Michelle’s stomach.

“Good morning,” he’d murmured in her ear as she stretched out her limbs before snuggling tightly up to him.

“Morning,” she’d responded sleepily. 

“I’m going to take Ed out today for a couple hours, we’ll be back in time to ride to the lake together,” Peter said, his fingers running through Michelle’s hair. She blinked her tired eyes open, a warmth in them that he would never get tired of seeing.

“Yeah, okay.” She leaned forward, giving him a gentle kiss. “I love you so much. The way you are handling… well, everything is just – you amaze me.”

Peter just tilted his head. “You amaze _me,_ ” he responded.

“I wouldn’t pick anyone else to be the father of my kid. I am so thankful for you.”

Peter had really kissed her then.

* * *

That day Peter took Ben out to his favorite ice cream shop. He got the flavor Tony always got, some pistachio nut thing. Of _course_ Tony would have liked something as odd as pistachio ice cream.

The had walked to Central Park while they ate their ice cream. Ed had talked non-stop about the birds he was seeing. They didn’t talk about anything special. Mindless chatter. But they were together. Ed had requested they get ice cream a second time, and how dare Peter deny his son?

The day was hard. They would pass by an Iron Man memorial and Peter looked away as quickly as he could , remembering the storm and the glove. He did his best to get Ed started on a ramble, did his best to distract himself.

Nightmares of the event still plagued Peter. He would wake up in a cold sweat. He couldn’t handle storms anymore. Anytime thunderclouds would roll in he would climb in bed, Michelle quickly following. She would turn on some mindless movie and they would waste the day away, MJ doing her best to keep Peter from having a complete breakdown. Sometimes he would, and she would just hold him, letting him spill out every single emotion he had let build up.

Those were bad days.

But today, Tony’s birthday, as they drove to the house, as Peter and Ed climbed out at the brick mailbox, and began the walk up, the day seemed to be not too bad altogether. Peter remembered the conversation he’d had with Tony. The way Tony had reminded him not to waste his life. He looked down on his kid, dark hair and dark eyes, and a toothy grin, and he’d know that he wasn’t wasting it.

They climbed a tree and did somersaults. Eddie did a Hulk impression that had Peter rolling with laughter.

When they made it to the house Morgan raced up to them, wrapping the two in a hug before taking Ed to go play with the llamas. Peter had walked onto the back deck, holding a glass of iced tea Michelle had given him. He was leaning against the railing, looking out over the lake, watching the ducks and swans dive, when he felt a cool hand on his shoulder.

Pepper looked at him with a tender smile, her eyes holding the same peaceful sadness as his own.

“I wanted to give you this,” she said, handing him a picture taken from Morgan’s film camera. Peter set the tea on the rail, biting his lip as his eyes grew hot. It was a picture of Tony on his way up the path, holding Ed’s hand. It was back when Eddie had first learned how to walk. He was focusing hard on the rocks underneath his feet as Tony stared at the camera, a gentle smile resting on his face.

“Thank you,” Peter whispered, his voice fluttering with emotion.

“Peter, you have blown me away,” she said, her voice carrying the same emotions as his.

“People keep saying that, and I don’t know why,” he responded honestly, eyes taking in every detail on the photograph.

“Because, everything you have been through… it would have broken most people. But you managed to take every bad thing and make yourself better from it. You took tragedy and you made it into kindness. You have a family that you love and care for. Peter, you are an incredible person. Tony was so proud of you.” She kept her hand on his back as Peter bit his lip once more.

“I just… I just really wish he were still here,” he choked out. Then tears were rushing down his face and Pepper was wrapping him tightly into her arms. His face was buried into her neck and he gripped her as tightly as he dared to as he wept.

He cried for the year Mr. Stark didn’t have.

He cried for the year he didn’t have with Mr. Stark.

The year his son was missing out on.

* * *

Father’s Day came around that year. June 21st. A day Peter didn’t know what to do with. Michelle made him breakfast. He, Ed, and MJ sat on his bed and watched cartoons. MJ asked him what he wanted to do, and he replied that he didn’t know. Michelle suggested they have a lazy day at home, they would order Chinese takeout and watch movies, play a few games, just enjoy one another’s company. Peter had agreed.

He pulled her aside later that morning and told her he needed to have a few hours to go do a few things. Michelle had just nodded.

“Eddie and I are going to make a killer fort. We’ll see you when you get home,” she said, kissing his cheek. “There’s three bouquets of flowers on the kitchen counter.”

Peter grinned down at her. “You’re the best,” he said. And he meant every word of it.

“I know,” she had responded.

* * *

  
That Father’s Day, Peter Parker visited three people.

He went to his father’s grave first. It was on a tiny plot in Queens, right next to his mom’s. He dusted off the headstone with a rag he had brought and removed the wilted flowers in the vase between his parent’s headstones. He set the simple bouquet of baby’s breath and sunflowers into the vase and placed it back where it went.

“Hey, Dad. Happy Father’s Day. I wish you were here to celebrate it with me. I really wish I could have known you more. Been able to have a few more memories with my father. But I know you loved me. The stories May has told, they mean the world to me. I wrote them all down, so I never forget them. I wrote down the few memories I still have.” Peter rolled his shoulders and looked down at the limestone tomb. “I love you, Dad.”

The next grave was sat next to an empty plot. It was a granite tombstone, an American flag folded neatly beside a picture of Ben at the fire department, in all of his gear, a big grin on his face. Peter placed the white and red carnations down on Ben’s grave. The fire department paid to have people clean the graves of the firemen that died in its service. Peter knelt down, laying a hand on the tomb.

“Hey, Uncle Ben. God, you would never believe my life. I could never repay you for everything you did for me. You took me in when you didn’t have to. You… you made my life wonderful. You married such a great woman. May, she’s just the best. But you knew that.” Peter took a deep breath. “You were the father figure that I needed. You were always there for me, and I… I could never repay you for that. I miss you, God, I miss you so much.”  
Peter sat at Ben’s grave for a while; talking, thinking, listening to birds sing, and dreading the idea of adding another person to visit on this cursed day.

When Peter made it to his next location, he stayed back for a while.

A group of art students from NYU had made their school project a beautiful statue of Tony Stark. He was standing tall; Iron Man suit on with a firm look on his face as he stared out over the city.

Peter walked up to the base of the statue and set the red carnations wrapped with gold ribbon down at the base of the statue.

No one was around right now, so he stepped back a bit, looking up at the face of the statue.

“Mr. Stark…” He barely got out to two words before tears rolled down his face. “I… I really never wanted to be here. I… I never thought – after Ben, I never thought that I would have another father figure. I definitely never thought it would be Tony Stark.” Peter gave out a short laugh. “But I am so thankful for you. You taught me more about fatherhood than I could have ever imagined. I… I didn’t truly know what it was like to have a father until I had you.”

Peter wiped at the tears on his face.

"You showed me what it’s like to be a good father. You showed me kindness, discipline, and love. When I was stuck, when I didn't know what to do and when all my hope was gone, I knew exactly who to call. And you know what, it’s unfair that you always knew exactly how to fix my problems. You were the type of man that I knew I could always call. No matter what, no matter when you were always there for me. I want to be that. I _will_ be that for Ed. I'll be that for Morgan and Pepper. I'll take care of them for you, I promise. Anything they need, ever.

"I promise to always tell you about what is happening in my life. I'll keep you updated on everything that Eddie is up to. He misses you so much. God, he talks about you every single day. I wish... I wish more than anything that I could give him his grampa back. But I know that I can't." Peter wiped at his eyes as he took a steadying breath. "You want to know what my biggest fear is? It’s that he'll forget about you. He's so young, and I just don't want him to forget anything about you. I want him to remember your eyes and your smile and your smell and your voice." Peter felt his chest shudder. "I want to remember all of those things. I just – God, I wish the universe had given me more time with you. It's not fair. It's really not. I told Pepper that I wish I had held on. That I would have given anything on this earth to have held on to you. And you know what she told me? She just grabbed my hand and she looked me dead in the eyes and she was so serious, you know how she gets." Peter could remember this clear as day. Pepper's eyes had been filled to the brim with a firmness he could never have argued with. 

"She told me, that I dare not wish anything different. She said you never second guessed anything you did. And she's right. You didn't. So I'm going to choose to believe that you made that choice, and that it was your decision to do that. You knew how scared I was that Ed would have to grow up without a father, that Spider-Man would take me away from him... I could never thank you enough for making sure I made it home to my kid that night. Even if you didn't. And, _fuck_ , it's not fair. But it's what you wanted." 

Peter looked around, trying to blink the tears from his eyes. 

"I don't know how to finish this conversation. I really didn't want to be here today. I wanted to be with you... I love you. And I am so thankful for you. I wish we had more time. I wish we had infinite time together. I wish you had been here to see Eddie grow up. I wish he could have gotten to know you more. But that's not what life had planned for us. I am... _so_ thankful that I knew you. And I will miss you every single day, for the rest of my life." Peter sat a hand on the base of the statue. "I love you, Mr. Stark." 

And if he imagined it hard enough, he could feel Tony slinging his arm over Peter's shoulders. Could feel the man leaning in and could hear his laughter. He could hear the hero that became family whisper, 

_"I love you too, Pete."_

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love for you to scream at me on here or on Tumblr! Come say hello over @itsreallylaterightnow 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed... and didn't cry too much :)


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